All Things End
by Shaded Mazoku
Summary: FFVI - A What-if AU, using the what-ifs of "What if Kefka won?" and "What if Leo didn't die?". Written for Leo's birthday, 8th of July, in 2007. All things must come to an end. But some ends are also beginnings.


Title: All Things End  
Author: Shaded Mazoku.  
Email: 1/1  
Disclaimer: Not mine, sadly. I wish I owned anything as wonderful as FFVI.  
Warnings: None.  
Rating: PG-13.  
Summary: After five years of the world slowly doing, it's time to end the reign of terror.  
Pairing(s): None.  
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI.  
Notes: What-if AU. Also, sorry Leo. I wanted something better for your birthday fic than this. Happy birthday anyway!

A lot can change in five years.

A lot did change in five years.

Five years ago, the world broke, shaped by the will of a man who claimed godhood. There had been a period of quakes and torrents, the very plates the continents rested upon being torn apart. A rearrangement of the map to suit the taste of a man whose tastes were haphazard and whimsical at best. Even now, every now and then, another quake would erupt, or something would flood, and once again, the world would change.

Five years ago, the mismatched group known as the Returners had gone up against the newly ascended god, hoping to end his reign before it could truly begin. They had braved dragons and vicious monsters, fighting their way to the looming, foreboding tower. They had not been heard of since. At least not in the same form.

Five years ago, shortly after the disappearance of the Returners, the Messengers had appeared. The descriptions varied, but one thing never changed. Two beautiful women, wielding powerful magic and wearing rings of metal around their heads, doing the bidding of the new god.

In those five years, the world had turned from prospering to a barren wasteland, ravaged under endless bouts of scorching sun and burning acid rain. The vegetation had withered away long ago, along with most of the animal life and a good half of the human race. There were children born who had never seen grass or blue skies.

After five years, there were no heroes left. There was little left of anything.

There was a small settlement near the labyrinth that led to the Tower. It had been named "Last Hope", but most people just called it End. It was a more appropriate name. It was the end. The last human settlement before the Tower. Mostly, it was a trade post, a gathering place for those strong enough to hunt the monsters of the labyrinth to come and trade their spoils.

There was only one inn in End, a makeshift building set up in a hurry but that had remained there for those five years. It was often filled with people, but at the moment, only a few people were there, hauled up to ride out the latest acid downpour.

One of them were a sombre man who stood out mostly because the coat he wore was in Imperial Army style; long, high-collared and simple. It had probably been green at some point, though it was more a brown-green colour now. The man had died five years ago. His body just hadn't realised yet.

He'd been a general once, but not any more. Five years ago, he had been stabbed in the chest by his own people. General Leo Christophe had died that day. He didn't use his name much at all these days. Obviously, he still thought of himself as Leo, but he didn't give it to anyone. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, he'd died from that wound. There was nothing left of the Empire. Clinging to shreds of it was pointless.

He came to End often. While he'd hunted many monsters, the ones near End was the ones that provided the most of a challenge. He didn't hunt for the fame and fortune, nor did he hunt out of anger. He hunted to get stronger. Strong enough to take on what would no doubt be the hardest fight of his life.

Quite likely, he would die. But he'd been as good as dead for the last years, anyway. He had nothing to lose.

Other hunters came to the End inn to trade, and to spend their earned cash getting drunk, before going out on another hunt. Leo didn't much care for alcohol. But after five years of this parody of life, he'd learned that alcohol wasn't the only thing you could get drunk on, nor the most devastating thing.

He'd spent most of his life drunk on idealism. And the last five years had been a hangover from hell.

When you'd been taking a lie for granted your entire life, it hurt like hell to have all those illusions stripped away. Even if he had always been, at some point, aware that it had been a lie. He'd known that the Empire was rotten from inside out. There were a lot of examples; The torching of Maranda, the invasions, the poisoning of the Doman water supply. But he'd chosen to honour the vow of loyalty he'd made the day he'd joined the army.

Sighing, he got up off of his chair and watched the door. Today was as good a day as any for a last, foolish stand. It was time to take a last dose of that idealism and end a five-year ache in the scar on his chest.

That scar was part to the puzzle, too. When he'd been the stabbed, the blade had hit his sternum and slid in between the ribs. The wound hadn't been fatal in itself, but it had been deep, and he'd nearly bled to death. Only cauterization had saved his life. Even so, the wound had nearly killed it. He'd caught an infection, and had spent months in a feverish state.

It troubled him, though. He'd been stabbed by a man who had been trained in assassination. The dagger had been poisoned. If the intent had been to kill, he should have been dead then.

Instead, he got to spend five years dying, just like the rest of the world. Five years of constant training to get as strong as he could possibly get. His body might be stronger than ever, but his mind was tired. It was about time it came to an end, one way or the other.

"I want to settle my bill, please," he told the innkeeper, walking up to the counter.

The innkeeper looked up at him. "Not necessary, you know. You've always been good at paying up."

Leo shrugged. "I won't be coming back." It surprised him how little that knowledge mattered. He'd always valued human life, but cared little for his own. More idealism, he supposed. Five years of living under the reign of an insane god tended to throw things into perspective. Just not the perspective you might want. That was how he knew he had to end it soon. He was starting to understand too much.

The innkeeper sighed, but took the money. "Shame," he said. "You always seemed sane, for a hunter." He found a cloth and wiped of the counter. "Still, at least, you're not dragging anyone else down with you."

"I am not like Kefka," Leo stated.

He needed to bring an end to this before that stopped being true. He could handle the world breaking, and five years of destruction and pain, but the idea of falling into the insanity that had consumed the Empire terrified him. Anyone could be brave in the face of death, but insanity meant loosing yourself when you were still alive. Living in a state where you'd willingly harm those you cared for was a nightmare.

Like everyone else on the planet, Kefka terrified Leo. But not for the same reasons as most other people. Leo was afraid of Kefka because he could so easily have been like that. Driven into insanity in order to be the perfect tool of destruction. He wasn't afraid of Kefka. He was afraid of becoming Kefka.

He left End behind without any more words. The innkeeper was still gawking over his casual mention of Kefka, whose name nobody spoke any more. Most people didn't really know the truth about their god. Kefka himself had not left the tower for five years. All his interaction with his broken world was through the Light of Judgement or through his beautiful and deadly messengers.

Leo knew, though, and if knowledge truly was power, then that was one little thing he had that the rest of the world didn't.

Getting through the maze was ridiculously easy. He'd been hunting the beasts in it for so long even the Doom Dragons were no challenge. It was rather silly, really, walking up to the door of the Tower like that. There should have been a terrible fight. Instead, he walked straight up to the front door without any trouble.

His presence was detected, though.

The last time he'd come anywhere near the Tower, there hadn't been a front door.

Pushing the doors open, he wasn't at all surprised to see a staircase twining upwards towards the top. It was as much as an invitation as he would ever get. Considering what he'd read of Kefka's typical paperwork, it was a rather nice invitation.

With a small smile, Leo started the climb upwards. It was just like Kefka to exhaust him before the battle. It was oddly comfortable to know that even in godhood, Kefka was still his same, wicked self. That, he could deal with.

Today was a good day for ending things. Be it something as complex as false godhood, or something as simple as a dependency on a drug like idealism.

If it ended his life as well, so be it.

All things eventually came to an end.


End file.
